


Y Lleuad A Yr Haul

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2163747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Had a request from Tracionn for something centred around a graphic she'd seen: Merlin representative in some way of the moon, and Arthur in some way of the sun.</p><p>Emrys is a ruler from a neighbouring kingdom, and Uther, once again, is trying to set up a marriage. Arthur's a bit tired of it by now, in honesty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Y Lleuad A Yr Haul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tracionn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracionn/gifts).
  * Inspired by [When Sun and Moon first found each other …](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/68511) by merlin-willcome-withme. 



The kingdom to the west is smaller than their own, far smaller, and yet it is infinitely more prosperous. It is a place of trained magicians and crops that grow by day  _and_  by night, flowers blooming beneath the moon with as much verve as if by the sun.

Those in the lower town called it “The Perilous Lands”, though the name on its crest was Lleuadyn, and on its shield was a lunar crescent, a bright star between the half-moon’s two points. It had once belonged to the Wounded King, the Fisher King, but his successor had been named some years ago, now.

 _Emrys_  is their leader now, Dragonborn and more powerful even than his numerous citizens.

Arthur has studied the kingdom for many years now, because his father had decreed it. Uther despises magic, he’s certain, but he bears it for the trade they have with Lleuadyn.

And today their leader is coming  _here,_  to Camelot.

Arthur is certain it’s another attempt on the part of his father’s to have him marry someone, some other ruler of a far distant kingdom he ought propose to for the sake of  _duty_ and nought else, and he hates it. God, how he hates it.

But he’s dressed in his best armour and robes, and he will see this man, and he will be polite for the duration of his visit. And then Emrys will return home, and Arthur can try and continue on,  _without_  marrying. His father had adored his mother, so why is it that the man is so intent on Arthur marrying for anything  _but_  love?

It is  _frustrating,_  and he hates it, and now he’s stood in his father’s courtyard _waiting_. Just  _waiting_  in the courtyard beside King Uther Pendragon, and he’ll have to pretend to find the man charming for the next three days even if he’s the most odious creature Arthur has ever met.

Unless this is the time Arthur gives in, and gives up the idea of marrying for love. What if he  _does_  marry this man? Would he have to live in Lleuadyn? Would Emrys live here, and rule his kingdom from another?

A horn blows, the note long and slow, and Arthur looks up. A white horse comes forwards, ridden slowly into the courtyard by a man in a red cloak, and another horse comes too, with a woman astride it dressed in lilacs. And that is the extent of their progression: they come with no guards, no procession, nothing.

The woman in lilac lays her horn at her horse’s neck, and now Arthur looks closely he sees that she is the only one riding a horse: Emrys rides a unicorn. He cannot see his face, for he has a hood over his head, and he is slow about demounting, as is she. She is beautiful, with dark skin and thick, black hair, and he wonders if Emrys is as pretty as her.

Beside him, Morgana steps forwards, and Arthur glances at her, but she stares only at the woman in the lilac dress.

“My name is Emrys.” His voice isn’t as deep as Arthur had expected, and nor is he as large: he pulls back his cloak to reveal dark hair on his head, and his flesh is light and clear as moonlight, his eyes a piercing blue. Even as Arthur looks they burnish into gold, and then he grins. Arthur’s heart skips a beat. “But please. Call me Merlin.”

“Emrys-”

“Merlin.” Arthur stares. He’s never heard a king interrupt his father before, and particularly not with so teasing a smile on his face. His father recoils slightly, obviously taken aback, but then he smiles back despite his discomfort.

Arthur can always tell when his father is uncomfortable.

“Merlin. It is an honour to have you here. My son, Arthur, and my ward, Morgana.” Merlin gives a small, polite bow to each of them, and still he smiles so brightly. He’s prettier than Arthur had expected.

“It’s an honour to be here. This is Gwen.” The woman beside him offers a closed-lip smile and she bows also.

“If I might wonder – where are the rest of your party?” Merlin raises his eyebrows.

“Uh, no, this is us. I don’t really go in for big parades. Bit pretentious, really, isn’t it?” Merlin, the great ruler  _Emrys_  of Lleuadyn, laughs and rubs the back of his neck. Arthur’s mouth is open. Does this man have no respect for tradition? For circumstance? For basic  _safety_  even?

His father leads them inside as the horse and unicorn are led toward the stables, and Merlin falls into step beside him with ease. He’s so  _thin._ Willowy is probably a better word to use, but even still. Merlin slides his cloak from his shoulders and Arthur is struck by how he has no bulk to him, and he doesn’t even wear ceremonial  _dress._

He’s in a clean white shirt and on its breast is embroidered his sigil, but he wears no armour, so jewellry, no  _anything._ Surely this is an insult? The Fisher King had been eccentric, but never had he come to Camelot dressed as such.

“Did you not worry for your safety?” comes his father’s inevitable query.

“Why?” Merlin asks. “Is your kingdom unsafe?”

“Not at all. We merely consider caution best practice.” His father’s tone becomes somewhat stiff, and Arthur finds he rather likes the way this man has made him uncomfortable – it is pretty entertaining.

“Ah. Of course. Gaius!” Merlin’s attention is caught by his father’s physician as they enter the court, and Gaius  _beams_  at him, holding forth his arms and letting Merlin hug him tightly. Arthur’s father has never looked so uncertain in all of Arthur’s memory.

Alright, so this is a  _bit_  funny.

“It’s good to see you, Merlin. I see you’re doing well.”

“And you!” Gaius is a nice old man, certainly, but Arthur doesn’t really understand how and why Emrys of Lleuadyn just hugged him so tightly.

Merlin pats his back, and then he follows them to sit.

It is not until late in the evening that Athur and Merlin dine together, alone for supper, because his father had thought up some ridiculous thing about Arthur learning from another ruler. Merlin is the same  _age_  as him anyway.

And he’s-

Well. He’s a bit of an idiot, really. He’s sarcastic and funny and he keeps making jokes.

“Well, you’re a bit of a disappointment, frankly.” He says in a teasing tone, and his boot taps against Arthur’s under the table. Arthur pretends, outwardly, that it doesn’t affect him at all. “I was expecting you to be six foot six, be built, look like a  _statue_ -”

“Are you saying that I lack the  _grace_  and  _beauty_  of a statue?” Arthur asks, mock-offended. “Just because I don’t look like a pond lily-”

“A  _pond lily!_ ” Merlin says in just as faux-wounded a tone. “How  _dare_ -”

“Merlin!” Arthur looks to the door, and Gwen is there, lip pursed, expression dour. “Lân is missing.”

The good humour saps from Merlin’s face within a second, and somehow is pale face becomes paler, almost luminescent. Arthur is suddenly aware of the way the moonlight filtering in through the castle windows illuminates his face, and everything about this man is  _Emrys._

His expression is calm, but one could never call it serene, for it was too terrible for that.

“Who is-”

“The unicorn.” Emrys says, and his voice is low, imbued with some new quality as he stands and makes his way out: he is commanding, and Arthur feels the magic coming off him as if it fills the room, forcing the air into three times its thickness.

Emrys finds the unicorn let out in the woods, but he turns his anger not on the stable boys but on the guards that hadn’t let them do their work: he doesn’t yell. Instead, he takes mercy, and the guards go on.

Arthur’s heart beats fast in his chest, and he wants to kiss this man.

This is the man, he thinks, that he will fall in love with.

Blast his father for being right for once.

—-

They wed in the autumn, as the moon begins to rise and the sun starts to give way: the merigold light paints both of them until it begins to darken, and then they’re lit in alabaster light instead. Merlin had replaced certain of Geoffrey’s papers with jokes, and so it is not as solemn a ceremony as his father might have liked.

When Arthur kisses Merlin for the first time, the other’s lips are warm and _perfect_ , and he feels the twinge of magic through his body, a surge from Merlin.

From then on, crops in Camelot grew by moonlight as they did by the sun, and lilacs bloom about the castle despite never having been planted, and Merlin calls him “clotpole” and they spar as magic and melee: they spar as the sun and moon, as they married.

And it is good. It is more than good, in fact – it’s much better than Arthur had ever expected. Though, truth be told, Merlin is a bit of an idiot. Not that Arthur tells  _him_  that.

Well, he does.

Just not all the time.

**Author's Note:**

> "Hi!I just saw ur prompt post, oh god how could I possibly resist? I would love to read more Merthur from u. RN I'm so smitten with that sun/moon graphic (it's on my blog tagged with 'sund and moon', sorry I can't link it), maybe that could be a base? Not like they are actually the sun and the moon, more magic realism or they are sun/moon to each other? I also love when they are both kings, like Merlin becoming king with Arthur, maybe that coudl be combined? If that's too vague just tell me. ♥" was the request itself.


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